Curvy Nanny for the Nerd

4. Pippa

Pippa

“ T he first thing on my list is to find a job.” It felt ridiculous, no, it felt pathetic to be starting over at forty years old, but this was my reality and I was determined to make the best of it. “A restaurant job would be ideal, but at this point I need to start earning some money.”

Valona’s big sage green eyes narrowed in confusion. “I thought you just got your severance pay and a big fat settlement.”

“I have it and it’s going in the bank today, well as soon as I have an actual address. But I can’t live off that money forever, Val.” As far as I could tell, there still weren’t many restaurants in Carson Creek. It had given us the perfect excuse to make the hour long drive into Nashville every weekend as teens. “I was hoping to stay here, but if that’s not possible, there’s no point searching for a house.”

“There is an option, but I’m not sure if you’re gonna like it.” Valona’s face was etched with worry.

“I’m listening. Tell me everything.”

Valona nodded and got up from the kitchen table, her long legs taking a direct path to the coffee pot which she brought back to the table. “There’s a property on Mulligrew Drive called The Old Country House.”

“That overgrown eyesore on the dead end street?” That place had served as fodder for our childhood imaginations, and then a semi-secret place where we could drink and kiss boys when we shouldn’t have been.

“That’s the one. It’s no longer overgrown or an eyesore. Margot bought it and turned it into a whole events complex.”

“Like a wedding venue?” I shook my head. “I don’t want to oversee caterers, Val. Is that even a job?”

She smiled and shook her head. “This is much bigger than that. Margot owns the land and the gorgeous plantation house the property is named for, so she gets a cut of everything. Carlotta Montgomery is the event planner. She specializes in weddings, but she does it all from debutante balls to bar mitzvah parties, bachelor parties and even divorce parties. I take photos for the events, usually on the property, but sometimes the couples want engagement photos and when I find studio space, I’ll do them there when the situation calls for it.” She smiled proudly, and it was downright contagious.

“That’s great, Val! It’s like guaranteed business for your new business.”

“Thanks,” she answered shyly, a small blush staining her cheeks. “Anyway, there’s a restaurant on the property that’s open to the public, but will also be used for events. The place is new and in search of a manager.”

That was music to my ears and I felt excitement pulse through my veins. “Seriously?”

Valona nodded.

“Way to bury the lead, woman!” I reached for my phone at the end of the table. “What’s the name of this place.” Valona was silent and I looked up with a question in my eyes. “Well?”

She nibbled her bottom lip before pushing the words from her mouth. “It’s called Dark Horse.”

“Cool name. Is it some type of saloon? Never mind, found it.” The photos of the place were spectacular, decorated in dark wood and burgundy leather. “It’s fine dining?”

“It is, with a bit of a rustic flair.”

My leg started to bounce excitedly. “Val, if I get this job then I can stay here in town, spend more time with you and the girls.” What are the odds that a fine dining restaurant would open up in small town Tennessee just as I was looking for a job in fine dining? “It’s kismet,” I declared and stood up. “I have to go there. Right now. Is this a situation where you have to know the right people?”

“As far as I know you can show up with your resume. But Pippa, there’s something you should know.”

“I have to find something to wear. Something that looks like I’m a pro, but that I can fit in with the people of Carson Creek.”

Valona laughed. “You are the people of Carson Creek, Pippa Carson.”

“You know what I mean. I haven’t lived here in a long time and some might consider me too citified.” I stopped in the doorway and waved Valona along. “Come help me pick out something to wear. Please?”

“Fine, but there’s something you should know about Dark Horse.”

I waved off her concern with a literal swipe of my hand. “Nothing can be as bad as dealing with Rodrick.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she mumbled, but I was already heading down the first floor hall to the guest room.

Inside my room, I pulled open the first suitcase I found, relived to see it was stacked with work clothes. “Black won’t work, I think I need to wear something colorful. Something delightfully southern.”

“Delightfully southern?”

“Yeah, you know, something colorful and feminine. But capable.” I pulled out my favorite red slacks that hugged my backside like a lover. “How about this with my black silk top? It says capable and strong but feminine, right?”

“Yes. With those insane black stilettos you’ll look gorgeous. As always.”

I rolled my eyes at my best friend’s compliment. “Thanks, but I’m just interested in looking like a good front of house manager.” I changed quickly and then dug through the lone box that wasn’t sitting inside a storage locker, and found my power stilettos, capable of turning any woman into a superhero. “How do I look?”

“Like the world’s best front of house manager?”

My shoulders relaxed at her perfectly placed words. “Thanks. Hair?”

“Keep it down,” she said and closed the distance between us, scrunching my natural waves with her fingers. “Perfect.”

“If I get this job, you, me and the girls are going out for dinner tonight. On me.” I hugged Valona and held her in my arms for a longer than necessary. “Thank you for bringing this up.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ve just got you back in town and I’m not ready to lose you to the big city again.”

“That’s not going to happen. I’m sorry I stayed away for so long and missed so many years with the girls. It feels silly in hindsight, to let him keep me away for so long, but after things fell apart with Dexter, it just brought it all back to the surface.”

“It’s all right, Pip, I understand. Randy died in the middle of divorcing me, so trust me when I say that I get the baggage. If not for the girls having a solid community here, I would have gone away too.”

I squeezed my best friend a little tighter. “I’m so happy I get to hug you anytime I want now.” I pulled back with a smile, kissed Valona’s cheek and rushed out the door with my black purse flung over my shoulder, car keys fisted in my hand. “Wish me luck.”

“You won’t need it,” she called after me and I let those four words boost my confidence as I took the short drive to The Old Country House, which was even more gorgeous than the photos, and took the left lane that led to Dark Horse.

I sat in my car for exactly one minute, calming my breaths and giving myself a quick pep talk. “One jerk of a chef in Chicago doesn’t define you. You know your stuff and you are an asset to any restaurant smart enough to give you a chance.” I let my eyes connect in the mirror and smiled. “You got this.”

I rushed inside, lest anyone else show up and try to take the job that was—clearly—meant to be mine.

Less than a minute after I entered, a long and lean man in a three piece navy blue suit with merlot window pane pinstripes strolled out to greet me with a pleasant smile. He looked as if he’d stepped right from the pages of a fashion magazine, which put him dressed even more fancy than me. “Welcome to Dark Horse. What can I do for you today?”

I put on my biggest welcoming smile and held out a hand. “I’m Pippa Carson and I am your new front of house manager.”

“I’m Devon,” he said with a hint of a smile and motioned me to a booth in the middle of the dining room after I handed him my resume.

I look around the place, excited about making my mark on a brand new restaurant. “The décor is beautiful, a bit rustic, but no doubt this is a fine dining establishment. It has character and that can go along way for helping a new restaurant stand out in a crowd.” I was rambling, I felt it down to my core, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “This place will do good business even without the built-in help from the events taking place on the property.”

“Tell me about Chicago.” His words were short and to the point, delivered without emotion.

I nodded, feeling my nerves rise as I recounted the events that led to my demise in a clipped, emotionless tone. “The chef, Rodrick, grabbed me by the arm and then squeezed when I told him to let me go. He didn’t, so I hit him with the leg of lamb he refused to redo for a paying customer.” I shrugged as if getting fired didn’t still burn. “The lamb was dry and he wouldn’t hear of it, refused to even taste it and instead got physical with me. It wasn’t my finest moment, but he’s the only temperamental chef to ever get that reaction out of me.”

The man, Devon, stared at me for a long time, probably trying to figure out if I was a diva or a crazy person. My hope started to fade the longer the silence persisted, but I kept my spine straight and my shoulders squared, projecting a confidence that dwindled with every passing second.

“Do you consider yourself difficult to work with?”

“No, and I don’t think anyone I’ve worked with in the past, other than Rodrick, would disagree. I pay attention to culinary trends, both in food and décor. I’m great with customers, listening to their needs and cooling tempers without running to the chef constantly or giving away the whole menu for free. I expect a lot from my staff because that’s what fine dining requires, but I’m easy to get along with as long as you do your job.” I sighed and prepared myself for what he would say next. “I won’t let myself be bullied or demeaned, no matter how talented the chef is.”

Devon took in my words and nodded before a smile lit up his face turning him from average to good looking. “Excellent to hear. You’ll love Chef Nina, she’s as quirky as her food, and she’s more of a hippie chick than a bully.”

I nodded at his words before understanding dawned. “I will? Does that mean that I’m hired?”

“It does. On a ninety day probationary period, of course. Either of us can part ways with in that time for any reason at all. If you make to the ninety-first day, we’ll start with a one year contract.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you, Devon. I promise I will not let you down.” My heart raced inside of my chest like I’d just finished a marathon. This was my second chance, one I desperately needed. “Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary. I need a solid house manager, and aside from that one incident, your credentials are good. I’ll double check them, obviously, but barring any deviant behavior, you have the job.”

I accepted his outstretched hand and shook it with far more enthusiasm than I probably should have. “Do you have a set schedule, or are you a hands-off owner.”

“Neither. I’m not the owner, I’m his assistant.”

“Oh. You’re so well-dressed, like every owner I’ve ever met.” It was like they had to make sure we all knew they wouldn’t lower themselves to do anything to help out in the front or back of the house.

“Thanks. I try.” Devon sighed and handed me a stack of papers. “The owner will be home in a few days, but you should expect to take the reins around here as we get ready for the Grand Opening.”

Take the reins? “Is he, um, does he...” I snapped my mouth shut before I insulted a man I’d never met.

“He is new to this business, this industry, but very eager and determined to make this place a success,” Devon supplied helpfully. “When can you start?”

“As soon as you need me.” I had a job. Not even twenty-four hours in town and I could tick one item off my to do list. “Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Tomorrow is perfect. Nine o’clock sharp and we can go over everything you’ll need to know.”

“I’ll see you then, Devon. Thank you again. So, so much.” He walked me to the door with an amused grin, that didn’t offend me in the least. I was happy to have this job, excited that I wouldn’t have to start over at the bottom of the ladder. At forty. I practically skipped back to my car with a grin so wide it made my face hurt, and the best part of all? The smile didn’t leave for the rest of the day.

For the first time in two months, I could relax. I could breathe again and it wasn’t all due to the dewy Tennessee air.